


Mystery skulls - A golden opportunity

by Flyingfoxwriter (shedrak1221)



Series: MSA Future: Broken hearts and seized wills [2]
Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Blood and Injury, Body Horror, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shedrak1221/pseuds/Flyingfoxwriter
Summary: Why wait, when one can take a golden opportunity?Based on a prompt asking for possessed Arthur instead of MM.No character death… even if it may seem so at first.
Relationships: Lewis/Vivi (Mystery Skulls Animated)
Series: MSA Future: Broken hearts and seized wills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028976
Comments: 14
Kudos: 86





	1. Heart

“…Lewis?”

It was not a push; not even a motion forward. His hand just opened.

And he let go. No struggle, no desperate grasp. Not anymore. With only one whisper, Arthur let his only hand open too, release the fearful hold it had on his arm.

The fall was all the same nonetheless. The same rush of air, the same spikes down below waiting to rip flesh… the same horror in those eyes. Now he knew how he himself had looked as he plummeted to his death.

Somehow, for reasons he could not grasp, he felt doubt. Doubt, as his murderer descended to the same fate he had cast him to. His ghostly eyes lost the rage he had shown seconds ago, his skeletal body shivered at the memory of his own flesh being torn. Seeing himself in his enemy, his heart locket seemed to crack again, loudly and painfully.

His hand even moved; it rose halfway, in contemplation. The spikes below seemed to struggle to keep their form. In fact, they barely did.

However, he took too much time contemplating his own actions… and there was no one to stop him. No one halted the ghost in his blind pursuit of justice.

No, as a loud rip and thud echoed, even Lewis knew it was not justice. He shivered like if a shotgun had pierced through his chest behind him, like if he was again down below bleeding to death; because that was what was happening, just to another person, not himself.

Arthur hanged motionless, with the very same expression with which he had fallen. But the seconds passed, and so came the pain. Slowly, he blinked; struggling, he stopped staring up above at that ghostly figure, to look down instead.

At first, he thought he saw green, perhaps a remnant of a memory buried in the deepest corners of his mind. But no, that spike was not green, but purple, like the very eyes he had looked into moments before. However, as he began to tremble, he could not mistake the red color on its point.

It had stopped his fall, after all.

With what little strength he had at the moment, he glanced upwards again. He could feel the spike crack below his weight, its ghostly form weak. But he could not think about how they were dissipating, not even about the one through the right side of his chest; there was a fact that hurt much more, more urgent if possible.

_He’s… dead?_

A yell echoed to him from above, a familiar gruff voice, but he could not register it. There was the sound of a shotgun; the ghost seemed to turn in shock, finally stopping watching frozen from above. The cave around him dissolved.

What had been sharp edges turned into simple loading boxes, which barely held his weight as their surroundings changed. The blood still poured all the same, managing to flow away from where his body was slightly concealed. A truck, the one in which that wraith had chased him, now his soon to be grave.

As he finally breathed in a raspy intake of air, he heard multiple shots. He heard the ghost move, a gasp from his uncle. And all he could do, even at the thought of the ghost hurting Lance too, was think who that ghost was.

He had not known Lewis was dead. All he had been doing was looking for him, desperately, haunted by the memory of an accident. An accident in a cave that made Lewis vanish, Vivi suffer memory loss, and him…

His prosthetic managed to move at last. The pain in his fake limb was different from the one his body was feeling, just a phantom. His eyes fixed on the blurs in front of him, purple, red and… gray.

A little reach, a weak grasp. But he managed to take the small locket on the ground.

Just a small distance away, the ghost shivered; his hold on the fainted man was gone in an instant. Lewis felt the touch on his metaphorical heart. He turned instantly, knowing who had touched it.

But as he saw, he could not care about his shattered heart. He had torn another one.

Arthur wheezed, sitting weakly against the boxes. He could be holding the wound on his chest, yet he was only focusing on keeping something in his hand. His eyes stared blankly at the picture; Lewis and Vivi first, and then what had really been.

When Arthur looked up to him with horrified eyes, Lewis felt something black gather in his sockets, something that looked nothing like the tears he was seeing.

“W-why would you…?”

_Dead, while I am alive._

The answer was there in his thoughts. The picture had been of only Vivi and Lewis at first, surely what he most wanted. There had not been any third wheel in the picture, and Lewis must have not endured the thought of becoming one in death. The chase, the fire, the crash; it all clicked together. The murderous intent was there.

Arthur could understand revenge. He could. If he only knew or could remember that night in the caves clearly, he would understand the real emotions in Lewis. But with no clear memory… he could only see a petty murderer.

“Y-you-“ A cough of blood; Lewis would have stepped closer. He would. But he found himself frozen. “ **You idiot.”**

Arthur had been dying; and yet, his next move should have not been possible. In an unnatural motion, his arms slammed on the ground of the truck, pushing up from behind. In a slow jolt, he stood upright, snarling instead of wheezing. In the dim light of the truck, his body seemed to pulsate, much more than what dying breaths would cause. And where had been a literal broken heart, a mass of flesh grew where the spike had torn him open. From that wound, the skin seemed to blacken, and not due to death or dried blood. His neck seemed to crack, as Arthur gave Lewis a shadowed glance, with a smug fanged smile that should not be there at all.

“What the-“

Lewis could not finish.

There was a huge burst, a green rush that seemed to blast out of his victim, both from the wound on his chest and his fake arm, which had suddenly collapsed into itself. Not only green mist engulfed them, but blinding sparks and electricity, perhaps energy.

And as Lewis crumbled back out of the truck with the force, a voice called, mocking, guttural and unlike the one of his enemy.

**“You may not have eyes in those sockets, but this is just ridiculous.”**

**“** Arth-?”

“ **Arthur’s not listening now, numskull. Better just let him think he’s dead right now, murdered. It’s not like… he’s going to wake up again.”**

As the figure advanced out of the truck, Lewis finally saw that was not Arthur. Two enlarged eyes glinted into the light of the moon outside, just slightly bigger to reach the feeling of uncanny valley. With a green glimmer at first, they gained more demonic fleshy colors as he leaned out, his right arm slamming on the frame of the opening in which he threw him minutes ago. Somehow, that grasp bent the metallic frame; his hand did not look human anymore, clawed and green. It contrasted with the color the rest of his skin had, black as night; right above his wrist there was no green tonality, but a hue that looked like blood dried ages ago. As he took the last step out into the moonlight, his left arm swung from behind him, like a scythe. It could not be called an arm anymore; that blast had torn the metal from the inside, its shards now seemingly floating around its former shape, pulsing and twisting around what could only be described as a long wave of electricity. But it was no electricity, or those malfunctioning sparks that had been tormenting him for days. Right from where his real limb had been torn, his flesh seemed to pulse, open, releasing a wild multicolored stream of raging strikes of light. The two most chaotic ones were of violet hues, their twists and turns towards the ghost apparently more intent. He had not grown much in size… but he did, with sickly cracks as he took an aggressive stance. The last nail in the coffin, what grew out of the mass that had closed his wound: a huge fleshy eye opened, glancing blindly around until it stopped, to rest over what had become his enemy: a crying mess of a ghost.

Arthur, or what had been him, smiled wide, seemingly taking an intake of fresh nightly air. Then, he looked downwards with his three eyes, at the figure that was fainted by the truck.

“ **Ah, this lazy fucker.”** Lewis’ sockets widened in fear, as that metallic bundle of sparks and sharp shards swung to take drive over Lance. “ **Couldn’t grab that shotgun any sooner, could ya?!”**

Like a long whip, that stream rose and descended. But it did not strike Lance. Arthur’s already abused body trembled more when two fists slammed on his arms. Past black tears, Lewis’ eyes glared into those three eyes, clarity seeming to sink in. Inside the truck, a locket seemed to shatter even more, as Arthur let out a chuckle.

“ **Is he still the one you hate the most, little ghost?”** Lewis shivered, as Arthur’s mouth opened again, lined with rows of sharp teeth, letting out a whisper that shook his entire being. **“Maybe he will be, when I’m done.”**

Those eyes twitched sideways, the sparks letting out another burst that scorched his suit. But he did not let go. Arthur was looking past them both, at a scene that had escaped the ghost. Mystery was on the ground, a pool of blood under him. Meanwhile, Vivi herself was near him, a cut on her side. Her bat seemed to smoke coldly, near a weed-like carcass.

 **“Ahh, I could have waited just a little more… that hurt in his eyes is as horrible and torturous.”** The thing shrugged under his hold, finally reclaiming his horrified attention. **“But this will do.”**

Next thing Lewis knew, Arthur’s hand had slammed onto his chest, right where a spike had pierced him and where his locket should be. There was a blinding light again; those streams pierced into his skeletal body, flowing through him like venomous snakes.

Arthur grinned sickly; he was pleased to see the ghost tumble a few feet away, as unmoving as that weed Vivi had dried with a swing.

That finally took her attention. She looked up from Mystery’s bloody fur with a gasp, her eyes widening as she noticed the ghost shudder nearby. Then, she heard footsteps, strong yet almost silent. A shadow loomed over them, even if there were so many hues tangling with it.

Both Lewis and Vivi shivered, looking up at him. And he only answered with a mocking whisper.

**“Hi, Viv.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to the one who guessed I would name the second chapter "Break" after calling this one "Heart".


	2. Break

When a chance is taken, it should be taken seriously.

And that was what it did. No holdbacks, no diversions; it would not let go or let it evade its grasp. As soon as he glared into her perturbed eyes with malice, he redirected his attention to the one that really mattered.

It was time he made that ghost disappear for good.

With a deep snarl, he swung his left limb again. For it was nothing like a limb anymore, but an amalgamation of sharp threads of flares of many hues, that twisted and convulsed in a form similar to a whip. If the blazing sparks failed to tear the ghost in half, the very physical and sharp shards of the shredded metallic prosthetic would do the job.

Even so, Lewis was frozen. Very much like in the moments in which he had forced Arthur into a cowering position, he could only stare up and watch with a haunted expression on his skull. Though, not because he feared for himself; but for what could still be behind those three bloodthirsty demonic eyes over him.

The whip came down, with a deafening crack. However, only small sparks brushed him.

With a ghostly wheeze, he struggled to let out what could have been a sigh. He shivered, another shadow blocking the view of what had become his enemy.

Vivi trembled, bat in her left hand, now leaned sideways after a fast swing. Arthur, or something that with every moment looked less like him, stepped back. She had moved, in instinct, and had batted off the whiplash as it came down. Somehow, even while contemplating the sight of her friend in such state, she had found herself moving in between.

And she did not know why.

“Arthur, what-“

 **“This is not how you are supposed to play the game, Viv.”** Another leer, this time less amused. Arthur took again the step he recoiled, the big fleshy eye on his chest seeming to pulse to a bigger size. “ **Now, why don’t you go and gobble up something with that mutt, or sleep off everything in that rusty van, while your old pal Artie takes care of everything around, you airhead?!”**

It was obvious before, but with those words she truly knew Arthur did not have the slightest bit of conscience or control right now. Another thing did.

“What are you.”

Arthur let out a groan, seemingly tired of her inquisitive glare.

 **“Pleeeease… Just-“** Fast as lighting, his stance changed and moved; his right claw swiped and shoved her to a side. “ **Forget it!”**

Lewis let out a ghostly yell as she hit the ground, the bat falling from her hand as she clasped her wound with a hiss. He would have dashed for her, if not for his persistent attacker.

 **“Just forget, yes!”** The whip swung down again, but this time Lewis reacted. The sparks rushed around his hands as he clenched them around the flow, his own fire rising as Arthur glared at him **. “It’s not like you lived to the name! Mystery skulls, for fucks sake. Skulls. Plural, not singular. We have to fix that.”**

Lewis growled and stood, yanking on the multicolored threads. And still they only seemed to elongate and bend to the thing’s whim, as it whispered again, piercing him with its hateful eyes.

**“One at a time.”**

Those eyes, which once had been caring, joyful, supportive, even if nervous, now twitched hauntingly sideways, murderously. To her, a hint for him.

He would not allow it, not even with the guilt he now carried in his heart.

Arthur gasped when the ghost moved next, surprised to see his expression twist into one of determination; Lewis yanked again, but this time clasping some of the metallic shards that hanged around the flow. With that physical grasp, he swung like he had done.

**“Shit!”**

Though possessed and mutated, he was still, overall, much smaller than the ghost. He huffed as he hit his back against the ground, his clothes now even more torn. But that did not mean he just rested there and waited for Lewis to get a hold of him, like when he crashed the van.

With a swift swing of legs, he dashed to his feet; then, he flared up his hues. Caught by surprise by that unnatural recovery, Lewis soon found those threads cutting through his body, right below his ribs.

Like a shotgun did, his ghostly form seemed to fade, torn. It was enough to make him step away, startled.

 **“Maybe I should have let you get a hold, Lew.”** Lewis hated to hear him say his name like that, and not because he resented Arthur. In fact, he wished nothing more than be able to see his real self, and not the thing that was sticking its sharp tongue at him in a hateful manner. **“I know you want to finish the job.”**

That jab made the ghost recoil again, just as he had raised a flaming fist. There was the guilt, the horrible contemplation. It allowed Arthur to lunge again and easily cut Lewis’ shoulder this time, with not much more resistance than a jolt.

No, there was barely anything Lewis could do, that he could bring himself to do. He would raise his fist, only to falter as it neared his face. His fire would tangle with that deadly flow, but set back anytime it brushed that black and green skin. Under that twisted stance and sickly expression, he could still see him, buried deep within.

He could do nothing but take the persistent lashing.

And as the ghost crumbled under it, another shook as much, even if with a different kind of pain.

Vivi sat up slightly, one of her hands sunk deep into her hair. Her head was aching, yet not for the hit against the ground.

_Lew._

The word seemed so familiar, so painfully recognizable yet unheard of.

In between the sound of lashing and ghostly gasps, something echoed too in her mind. A whisper at first, an echo next, until she could not hear anything but a cacophony of undistinguishable screams, from which she could not understand a thing.

Her eyes lidded, a hue she could not see over them. Slowly, she glanced back to the two figures nearby. She could see clearly one of them, looming darkly over the other, rapidly lashing down. That second figure, it was now a simple blur, even if not small; as it collided with a wall, its outlines seemed to overflow, not only due to the ripping of those threads.

A flaming skull, skeletal ribs, ghostly ardor. Deep eyes, which seemed to be what most screamed for her to stare at.

It was only when that figure seemed to twist and change for a moment that the blur faded in her eyes.

Lewis tried once more to shield himself, raising one arm up as the sparks convulsed into a more straight shape, in order to impale.

“Arthur, please!” His desperation and guilt made him show his living self for a moment, the only thing that could show his agony more than his broken locket. “I’m sorry!”

_Lewis._

**“Idiot, I told you he can’t-!”**

There was a loud thud. Before he could finish, something had slammed against his face, strongly. If the hit did not push him enough, it was the smoking ice that made him stumble.

Lewis shivered, quivered, much more than if that blazing multicolored blade had pierced through him. Right in front of him, was Vivi, holding her bat with no reluctance, her eyes narrowed with a fury he had rarely seen.

As it stood, the thing saw it too. While his claw held his bruised face, he stared mouth agape at her, some pink hues still in her eyes. But all fading.

“Get away from Lewis.”

Her stance was unmovable, and yet, there was the horrible shakiness, the terrifying realization. She looked over her shoulder, faintly, and met his ghostly eyes. It was enough for him to flicker again, involuntarily, the knowledge of her clarity sinking in.

She did not have time for heartbroken whispers or laments however.

 **“Agh, a third wheel again.”** Arthur neared once more, leaning his body side to side, giving her a lean of head that showed how annoyed he was. His three eyes were impossibly open, his pulsing third seemingly tearing the skin on his chest. “ **Isn’t there a saying that goes: _till death do us part?!”_**

“Arthur never broke us apart.” She glanced back at Lewis, her expression one of regret. “He didn’t.”

She could see it in Lewis’ eyes. As he stood slowly, his sockets seemed to narrow onto Arthur, with worry and hurt. He stood behind her, his posture one of dread, even if now firmer. There was no accident, no murder either. That day, their hearts broke in more than one sense, but not because of any concealed hatred they held, but another’s.

 **“I want to puke.”** He hit the ground with a slash, clenching his claw with faked boredom. “ **Such care, love… May I remind you how you let him fall multiple floors into a dark basement, how you almost crushed him against a wall, how you shocked his prosthetic when you broke down his van, how you chased him with a freaking flaming truck, crashed his van and risked multiple concussions, hauled him into a space bending illusion, and then… killed him?”**

Lewis snarled, taking one step closer.

“He’s not dead.”

Indeed, the hold of that thing had closed the wound, even if it had engulfed it with a monstrous eye.

**“He very well is! I’m not letting go, darling. This, this is me now. And yet, it is still partly him, his heart clasped tightly under my fingers, nice and quiet when I want it. You don’t know how fucking exhausting is to sort through his senseless thoughts and-“**

“Enough!”

Lewis said it, but she could very well have been the one to yell in anger. Arthur flinched and stopped rambling, because both dashed at him, one with flaming hands, and the other with an icy bat.

**“Hey, hey! Now wait a-!”**

They didn’t. Much like when he rushed at Lewis to take him out of the picture, both made him fall back. With a gasp, he recovered from her swing, yet had to move as two big hands tried to grab him down.

He rolled backwards and stood again, this time crouching and keeping both at a distance.

 **“You can’t hurt him!”** He growled, pointing at them with a nailed finger. “ **The host still feels, you dumbasses!”**

Vivi glared fiercely; giving him the same stance she gave Shiromori.

“Then why are you cowering? You feel it too, don’t you?!”

Lewis could see those sharp fangs clench in pain, its three eyes twitch in slight dread.

“They day I died, there was nothing like what I’m seeing now. You may have more control this time, but I’m going to make you regret holding on to it.”

**“You fucking-“**

Another hit of bat. He huffed as he bent, the icy surface pushing against his middle section, right below the bulging eye. Quickly, he raised his claw over her, intending to rip her neck to shreds. However, again, those fists moved. Instead of her throat, he clasped his claw around a big hand, which began to blaze.

With an undignified scream, he let go of the flaming knuckles. As he did, Lewis made sure to twirl her away, standing as a shield where she had been. Arthur tried to follow her sidestep, knowing she could do more harm than ghostly hesitant fire, but he did not have the chance.

A yelp escaped him when those two fists slammed on his sides, suddenly pressuring his two limbs against his torso. He tried to whip his left hues again, but could not take much drive, only getting some pained snarls from the ghost.

**“Let go!”**

“No you.”

 **“I said-!”** He stopped, crying out instead. **“Argh!”**

She had not wasted time. Arthur felt the icy point of the bat, pressuring right on his back, right where the eye was on the other side; where his heart was being held painfully tight.

The smoking ice was coiling now over his torso, spreading around like ropes. The fire Lewis was invoking was not melting any, in fact it only seemed to tangle and fuse with it. It was not causing any wounds or bruises, yet it was still painful; all the more to the being that was unnaturally foreign, uninvited.

If they were not doing this out of care, it would be outright cold blooded torture. Not for him, but for it. As the coolness sunk into his flesh, so did the fire.

Green pulsing mist, the outlines of a hand, clasped tight around a feeble heart. So many hues bursting out of it, flowing through his flesh. Multiple wounds, in which those unphysical fingers sunk and clawed.

The coldness seeped into that unnatural hand. The fire, meanwhile, blazed over the wounds, burning, but only the thing that gripped them and kept them open. That purple fire made sure to keep the coldness away from the host, already having done enough harm before.

It was, overall, a fucking pain. For it.

Those three eyes were open wide, in agony and rage. They twisted around, looking at that furious looking skull, then over his shoulder to that outraged madwoman, then…

**_The mutt_ ** _._

Lewis gasped, Vivi did too. Arthur seemed to stop struggling as much, convulsing instead under their grip. In seconds, the blackness and green hues on his skin seemed to fade. That claw shrunk. His body slumped slightly. The two eyes on his face rolled back, uncontrolled. Meanwhile, his chest shook the most.

The ghost squirmed and let go, because the eye in front of him suddenly blasted. Literally, in a mass of green and red; pulsing and enlarging; it broke apart. Green mist emanated from the mass as Arthur fell limply forward, still jolting.

In seconds, the hues that flowed out of his ripped arm faded, seemingly twisting back into his flesh. The shards of his metallic arm finally scattered on the ground, torn and unsalvageable.

Though fainted, battered and bruised, all seemed to fade back to normalcy. Human, skin, human like hand, normal sized eyes and a lack of green on him.

But that did not mean there was no green.

Under his fainted body, something struggled. Pushing from under his weight, what had been a mass of green flesh around his heart pulsed and divided from what little remained of that big eye. Twisting, crawling, Lewis and Vivi watched with disgust as that flesh contorted into a different shape, turning from simple vein like threads to a familiar form.

“What the fu-“

She could not finish. That thing managed to push Arthur’s body off. Its fingers slammed on the ground, its palm rising up like a snake to glare back at them. It could, considering there was an eye there, smaller, but an eye.

Without a mouth, it was unable to curse them. But it wanted too. It wanted nothing more than to rip them to shreds. Arthur too.

And in a flash, it turned its attention forward. Its eye fixed on Mystery. Open wounds all the same, an opening perfectly adequate for it.

It lunged, like a snake.

It took Vivi and Lewis a moment to understand, but when they did, she paled, while he almost began floating in shock.

“Nononono!”

“Fuck!”

It laughed mentally. It was right there, almost at reach. It outstretched its fingers, ready to brush that white bloody fur. It would sink in that heartbroken heart too.

But it didn’t.

Abruptly, multiple shadows dashed in front of it, with deafening hisses. Many yellow eyes, sharp maws, long limbs outstretched from pulsing pink figures.

Lewis panted with his hand still up in the air. His eyes narrowed as much as the ones of his deadbeats, who made the thing recoil, cower.

He tried to lunge after it, before it could try to move past them. But he couldn’t.

Vivi gasped as the thing flinched and moved to a side, dodging Lewis’ fire and deadbeats by inches. The ghost growled deeply as it dashed away with a speed it did not seem capable of displaying. His eyes let out a few frustrated black tears as it hid in the shadows of the night, escaped through the surrounding forest.

He would have chased. He would; but only a few of his deadbeats gave chase in the darkness. Instead of lunging after that monster, he turned.

Vivi was there, looking up to him with the most heartbroken of stares. In her arms, Arthur, still unconscious.

Slowly, he forced himself to near them, as much as he felt he maybe shouldn’t. His skeletal form faded, letting her see what he really was, this time clearly.

Both stared into the other’s eyes, not knowing what to say, or what to do. There were so many things that had to be admitted, or clarified. Each had a different perspective that night, one above, one below. But both had seen the spikes, and now both remembered clearly.

Clarity, it was what made them look down, with a grimace. He was bruised, beaten, with some red on him, his own blood. And yet, that wound was closed, even if evident.

Lewis trembled as he raised a hand over it, recalling that it had been an open gap before, torn open by a spike. Inside a truck, his locket pulsed, the picture inside all ever clear.

And yet, even as he took Vivi and Arthur in his strong hold and pulled them closer to Mystery, it did not feel like it. Not even as he held them against his chest did he feel the same that he did in that day. Close, yet so apart. Not even Vivi’s hands on him made him feel any less cold.

“Lewis, I-”

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted her, and she was not able to continue. His eyes, even if human-looking, kept shedding black tears. They fell over the wound he had caused, over a heart that still beat, but broken. “I’m so sorry…”

He tightened his hold, but it only made him feel worse. There was no future he could hope for, not after what he had done. In the shadows, a locket finally gave in, incapable of sustaining more fractures.

It fell into four separate pieces, each showing one smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make some fluff at the end. Did not come out as fluff.  
> Currently, working on an after scene, in which I will TRY to soften the load of angst I dropped in this thing.
> 
> Next up in the MM alternative possessions: VV, Vivid vexation.
> 
> If you have any prompts or want free books, here's my site. I treat my own creations and characters with the same care...  
> https://www.flyingfoxwriter.com/


	3. Mended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go listen to Enemy. It is the song I listened to while making this.

Whispers, they echoed around; before, deadly silence. The only thing he had been able to feel was coldness, a horrible iciness, gripping all his being. Then, slight pain, added to the one of blood loss. Finally, warmth, intense at first, controlled after.

But that warmth changed. With more whispers he could not recognize, it stopped being familiar and committed.

The ghost had let go of him, leaving him to rest inside the workshop instead.

“I can’t be here when he wakes up.”

Arthur could not hear him, still fainted, but safer inside Lance’s office. The warmth his arms had provided in the night was now given by Mystery’s fur, who rested as weakly behind the blond. Both had sustained deep wounds, and had not yet woken up.

For him, it was a good thing, but not for her.

“You should be here, Lewis.” Their voices echoed, only them capable of distinguishing their hurt tonality and emotion. As she held onto his ghostly arm, they both exchanged a deep look, one they had not been able to share before. “I want you here. I need you.”

His name, it echoed inside the room, a hand stirred.

“You shouldn’t, Vivi. Look around you, at them. I did this. I don’t belong here.” Another stir, as she took a few steps closer while he snarled. “He certainly won’t want me near, he shouldn’t either.”

“First, there was also that scissor maniac. Second, I’ve just remembered you and your death. Lastly… he was looking everywhere for you.”

“So was I. So much, so fervently that I could even lose sight of you, Vivi. I wanted him dead, more than giving you my heart.”

“Do you really think you can become someone he’ll call-“

“Yes. Much more than that; I hunted him down, I will surely be in his nightmares. He was mine, in my fiery grasp, as I-“

“You let me fall.”

Both Lewis and Vivi jolted, hearing that whisper. Slowly, they turned to look back at the far corner; there in the dim light, the big kitsune on the ground, and on him… not a sleeping figure, but a very awake and alert one.

Lewis shuddered, pierced by those two lost distrustful eyes. Arthur was still resting against Mystery’s side, but he had already assumed a tense position. His expression was more confused than furious, but the hurt was there.

Arthur only looked away from the ghost in the shadows to do one thing. He moved his only available hand and reached for his own chest. His disoriented grimace only intensified, when he could not find the hole in his chest, the one he had felt and seen before blacking out. He lost sight of those ghostly eyes in the pain, and now he could not feel them on him anymore as he regained consciousness.

Lewis had averted his gaze. Before Vivi could say anything, he had floated slightly away, his hand grabbing what had been beating on a desk. She had assembled what was left of his locket, the only one daring to reach for it, as she once had tried to do when she first saw him.

And now, as Arthur looked frozen with no understanding of what happened, Lewis tried to leave.

He couldn’t. Vivi did try to get a grasp of his arm as he tried to phase through a wall, but it was another thing that made him halt dead on his tracks.

“Why.”

So many questions, in just one word: Why was he not dead? Why was he? Why had he pursued him, only for him to try to kill him?

There was nowhere to run here. He was cornered, battered, and Vivi would not be of much protection if the ghost really wanted to lunge on him. The intent had been there, fiery and unyielding. Yet… Lewis was not doing anything but look away. Even his ghostly form had shifted, to show his former self, the same sight Arthur had seen before plummeting.

Arthur’s heart was beating impossibly fast; still heartbroken, impossibly lost, wondering if all was just a nightmare, or just another pause in the chase, just thanks to her presence.

_It’s down to me to fix it._

Vivi did not miss how Arthur flinched when Lewis moved next. He sunk back into Mystery’s fur when those ghostly eyes fixed on him again. But the fainted Kistune did not offer much solace as the ghost advanced towards him.

“Arthur.”

Right then, there was no doubt he had not dreamed seeing this ghost as Lewis. He was seeing it right now, again. The friend he was desperately looking for was right there, looming over him. Part of him expected him to reach for his collar to yank at him again, perhaps fire to shoot downwards like it did for the tire of his van… and part of him expected the familiarity of his slow crouch, the look he gave him next.

Gone was the skull; eye to eye, Lewis whispered, as Arthur seemed to stop fearing.

“I’ve been dead for a while.” Lewis did something he himself had not expected to do before. With a hesitant glance, he grasped his locket, and let it rest in his hand for Arthur to reach for, this time willingly. “I tried to kill you.”

It was no illusion. Arthur brushed again his chest, now recognizing some scars in the dim light. Then, he looked at that shattered heart, which had seemed to be pieced together. His only hand moved after some seconds of contemplation; Vivi had moved closer, and was now looming behind Lewis, with the most pained look he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes oversaw it all as his hand finally clasped onto the locket, a shiver running down his spine as he brushed Lewis’ fingers.

“You did.” Arthur held again the locket, and once more he opened it. The picture was there, as torn as the pieces, as well glued together. The smiles were still visible however, so contrasting to the grimaces the three now wore. “Do you hate me that much?”

“No. I do not; you surviving that night is not what has made me hurt you.” Arthur truly was struggling to understand, as Lewis now looked nothing like his ghostly self, but like the friend he had always known, just seemingly heartbroken as he spoke. “I can’t hate you, not now, perhaps not ever. I thought I did; but I did not know who my enemy truly was.”

A shake of head, a choked whisper.

“I don’t understand, Lewis.”

“I know.” Lewis looked over his shoulder, afraid. He met her blue eyes, which once had been tinted pink. “No words may help you do so.”

She whispered, slightly hesitant, but sure that the truth was much better than believing Lewis would want him dead just for living, for such a petty reason.

“He should know. If he wants to…”

She understood if Arthur perhaps preferred to move away; she would stay by Lewis instead.

It was the ghost who showed most reluctance; he could see Arthur try to puzzle together all he knew, of that night and this one. But there were too many pieces missing. He believed in an accident, but… he could never imagine a murder mystery. A murder he had not committed, but that he could blame on himself if he ever discovered that he had not slipped and fallen.

“Arthur.” He met his eyes again, even though the locket was pulsing impossibly rapidly in his hand. He warned, his former friend finding himself listening. “I can show you the reason of me becoming what you have seen and are seeing now. However… if I do, I need you to do one thing.”

The blond gulped, noting the deadly serious look in those gleaming eyes.

“W-what?”

“Do not dare blame yourself.”

Those words, they triggered a reaction instantly. Arthur’s face showed a deep grimace, his eyes narrowing suspiciously; but it was not directed to Lewis, but to himself.

“You… fell in that place. You did…” Arthur held his head, seemingly doubting his own words, something screaming inside him. His heart, which had recently felt so cold, seemed to beat with something unlocked, but still blurred. “You did, didn’t you…?”

Arthur shivered, for Lewis raised one hand. It loomed over his eyes, but stayed there, not daring to descend onto them.

“I won’t show you if you don’t promise. I rather be the one you hate the most.”

Instead of himself.

“How can you…” His memory, it was full of flashes of green, something that was slowly seeping, making him recall painfully. It was making him fear much more than Lewis could have ever had. “P-please don’t make me promise.”

All the wariness he had felt was gone. Lewis tried to move away after his words, but he found himself stopped. He shivered when Arthur leaned fast and latched his only hand on his suit, keeping him there as he asked with a haunted gaze.

“Show me.” Lewis leaned slightly away, but that only made Arthur beg. “P-please, Lewis.”

His name was said with familiarity, affection. It was not whispered with shock, incredibility and fear. That made him decide that the truth would allow for a future in which he could mend things, even if slowly and painfully.

Arthur did tremble as he placed his hand onto his eyes, but did not flinch away. Slowly, a violet fire began to spark from it, but he did not cower. The fear was there, but it was not for his ghostly capabilities, but what they would allow him to see.

Vivi knew now those violet hues. However, this time they brought clarity, not blindness. Still she wished she did not know what Arthur would see, and that none of them had to ever know of it. It should have never happened.

As the light grew, Lewis closed his own eyes. He did not have the strength to see them sink into Arthur’s.

For both were now seeing what he saw, all through his former living eyes. The cave, the mist; the sound of a dash, the feel of a hand pushing on his back. The rush of air, the last sight of a sharp smirk from above. A spike, blood. His grieving resentful heart pulsing to give birth to his wraith, a ghost. Then, all that he had seen, just in another perspective. His coffin opening, his chase, Vivi being taken away, the truck, the crash and his last grip on him over ghostly spikes.

Then… the grasp. The cold icy grasp of what had made him dash that night, this time capable of much more thanks to his dying breaths. The lashes, the leers, the murderous intent. Their hold, their hits. Eyes full of malice, but then cowardice. Release… then silence; regretful painful silence. His body safe in their grasp, much more caring that what had made him move.

Those visions, not his own, but so representative of his actions. When they ended, he could still feel the coldness, what had kept him oblivious and blind.

Violet hues fading, his eyes returned to normalcy. For normalcy was now always one of horror, terrible wonder.

Lewis was not surprised to hear Arthur gasp and hold his own head, finally releasing his tight hold. Even Vivi leaned to reach for his shoulder, to keep him from slumping in lightheadedness.

With deep breaths, he was trying to stop seeing blurry, reach some clarity. But clarity was still so terrible, so cold to embrace.

_As cold as him._

“Lewis, I-“ A hiss, the sight of his own body dashing forward, overlapped in a cave and right outside this workshop. “I ki-“

He did not let him finish. Arthur huffed, for Lewis lunged indeed. But instead of doing so like he had done before, he did so with a feeling much more pain inducing, more clear and real.

And Arthur… could move away; he could free himself from that hug, so easily. Lewis was holding him tight, close, yet trembling, hesitantly, knowing what he had done himself.

So his only hand moved once more, to return the embrace as Lewis let out a sobbed assuring whisper.

“You didn’t.”

He whispered too with a weak smile, tears much more clear than the black ones falling on him.

“Neither did you.”

An admission, no trace of blame for the other, but themselves. Vivi sighed, crouching there, able to do nothing but let them feel each other’s presence, let time begin to heal.

They were heartbroken, but hopeful as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what has come up after trying to soften the ending of the last chapter, which you guys wanted to be less bitter.  
> It is not much better, but I tried.
> 
> If you have any prompts, send them my way here: https://www.flyingfoxwriter.com/


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